


A Productive Summer Break

by masi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7377301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ushijima and Oikawa try to improve their teamwork over summer break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Productive Summer Break

A week before the start of summer break, their team is defeated in what was supposed to be an easy match against a neighboring university. The loss is partly his own fault, Ushijima believes. He wasn’t ready to be on the court with Oikawa.

Initially, they had been standing in the sidelines with the other substitutes, their jackets zipped up, not expecting to be allowed to play. But when their team started to fall behind and lose their morale, Ushijima told the captain that he and Oikawa were ready to play, that they would turn the game around, that they would win the match for the seniors. No one was more surprised than himself at what followed: the inability to synchronize their movements, the ball glancing off the top of his hand more often than not. 

There will be more matches after the upcoming vacation, Ushijima reminds himself afterwards, more chances to perfect their teamwork. 

Oikawa, however, chooses not to take this practical view. He is incredibly rude to Ushijima on the bus ride back to campus, blaming Ushijima entirely for the loss. “You said it yourself,” Oikawa is saying at the moment, in a petulant voice that is slowly increasing in volume, “I bring out the maximum potential of whatever team I’m on. So it’s not my fault, is it?” 

Before Ushijima can reply, Oikawa continues, moving farther into his seat and away from Ushijima even though there is an entire aisle between them, “You spent all those years saying that I chose the wrong path and would’ve done better at Shiratorizawa, but you were wrong, weren’t you? It would’ve gone exactly like this. I told you, Ushijima, no team is guaranteed victory.”

Oikawa keeps at it, airing old grievances, until their captain turns around and tells them to knock it off. 

The next morning isn’t much better. Oikawa’s mood has not improved. Ushijima gives him a wide berth at practice, jogging ahead and trying to focus on his own goals. He can hear Oikawa complaining to Sugawara (who was smart enough to not ask to be put into the match yesterday) about how some of his summer plans have fallen through.

Ushijima thinks about the upcoming vacation. He has finals this week, and then he will return to Miyagi. He has plans for the break, goals to meet. Goals that he is going to meet in places far away from Oikawa Tooru. 

“I was really looking forward to spending time with them, you know?” Oikawa is saying, in a long-suffering tone. “Ahh, things were so much better when we were in high school. Now everyone suddenly has other _commitments_. Really, I’m so stressed out these days I can almost feel my hair turning gray. Soon we’ll look exactly like each other. No one will be able to tell us apart, Mr. Refreshing.”

“I doubt that,” Sugawara replies in a polite tone.

Ushijima finds himself falling behind on the track field, jogging in place almost, until Oikawa reaches him.

As expected, when they are side by side, Oikawa glares at him and then turns away. He raises his voice as he continues talking about the plans he had made with Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa; the hot springs they were going to relax in, the movies they were going to see together, the volleyball they were going to play. A trip to Matsushima Bay, now postponed indefinitely. The sadness he feels now. 

After awhile, Sugawara says “maybe next year,” sounding more bored than sympathetic.

Ushijima looks at the sweat sliding down Oikawa’s pretty neck and dampening the collar of his jersey, the same jersey he is wearing except in a smaller size, and he says, “I am going back to Miyagi for the summer too, Oikawa.”

“Hm?” Oikawa turns to frown at him. And then, “What makes you think I care?”

“Ouch,” Sugawara says. He is generally a friendly person, and a better practice partner than Oikawa in many ways, but he is never quite as sweet as he appears.

Ushijima wipes away the sweat gathering on his own forehead and tries to ignore the way Oikawa is breathing. Rapid and shallow because of the seven laps they have done already. Cheeks tinged red. He says, “We can practice together over the summer. And I can go to Matsushima Bay with you. Or to the onsen.”

“I would rather spend summer break memorizing the German version of _Civilization and Its Discontents_ ,” Oikawa says. 

Sugawara says, “I think this is my cue to leave. Try not to get punishment laps, you two.” He jogs on ahead.

Oikawa lowers his voice to say, “Ushijima, what do you really want? Isn’t it enough that I’m on your team now? Really, some people are just so greedy, always wanting more.”

Ushijima remembers his own goals again. He must not let himself get distracted and drift off on some new and unpredictable course. His main goal is to become a strong ace, one that his team can rely on. Oikawa is right, it is enough that they are on the same team now. They can practice together after the break.

“I do not want anything more from you,” he says.

He picks up his pace. Just three more laps, and then fifty minutes of volleyball drills. Then, he needs to start studying for his final exams. Then-

Oikawa reaches his side and says, “Why would you think that I would want to spend any time with you after you embarrassed us both yesterday?”

“How did I embarrass you?”

“We weren’t ready to be on the court! But you were being confident to the point of ridiculous as always and got us into that mess. And then you couldn’t even spike properly.”

“Your toss was off.”

Oikawa stops talking. His eyes are wide now, fixing on Ushijima with a burning intensity. Ushijima feels a strange thrill somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. It’s been awhile since he was on the receiving end of this particular glare.

“My toss was off?” Oikawa repeats. “Wow, why am I not surprised? That’s what your fans were saying too. I heard them yesterday, saying I cost us the match.”

“You can’t let people-” 

“You want me to send the ball directly to the tips of your fingers while you stand in one place and just hold your hands up, right, Ushijima?”

The captain is looking their way. Ushijima says in a low voice, “That’s not what I meant, and that’s not how the game is played. Yesterday was the first time we were allowed to play against another team, and we made a few mistakes. Both of us. But we can and will do better.”

Oikawa is quiet after that, and Ushijima puts all of his own thoughts aside, focuses on the sound of his sneakers hitting the hard track, on the ache starting in his calves, on the clouds above that might bring rain and some relief from the July heat.

***

Ushijima returns to Miyagi. His grandparents’ house looks exactly as it did when he visited for Children’s Day, as it has been for many years. He can feel a heavy weight settling on his shoulders as he takes his sneakers off in the silent front hallway. 

After having tea with his grandparents, answering his mother’s perfunctory questions about university with answers that are even more succinct, and unpacking his bag, he checks on his garden. The seeds that he planted in May have sprouted into healthy plants. He collects a basketful of tomatoes, potatoes, and perilla. After putting the basket in the kitchen, he heads out for a 5-km run. 

He will begin his new workout routine tomorrow morning, and in the evening he will have dinner with Tendou and Reon. He will spend time with his friends during the Tanabata festival too. He will have a productive summer break.

***

The dinner starts off pleasantly enough. Tendou has chosen a popular yakiniku restaurant in Sendai City. He is in a good mood and full of stories about what “Semisemi” has done to him recently. Reon says a quiet “there we go,” as they sit down at their table. It is as if they are back in Shiratorizawa, as if they have never parted. 

And then Oikawa enters the restaurant with three of his old teammates from Aoba Johsai.

“What’s wrong, Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou asks. “You look like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on your head.” 

Ushijima tries to turn his attention back to the strips of beef sizzling on the grill. He says, “Is that something you want to do.”

“I’ve missed him,” Tendou says to Reon, who laughs.

Maybe Oikawa won’t see him, Ushijima reflects. The restaurant is packed with people. Groups of friends, large families. It is very loud. He wasn’t expecting to see Oikawa until September.

But then Tendou shifts beside him, saying, “Hey, Hajime-kun! Hey, over here! You’re late.”

And Iwaizumi walks right over to their table, no hesitation, saying, “Yeah, sorry about that. Got held up because of Asskawa over there.” He jerks a thumb in Oikawa’s direction.

“You remember Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou says.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Iwaizumi replies. He shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Hello,” Ushijima says.

He hasn’t talked to Iwaizumi since they ran into each other in front of the restrooms in Sendai City Gymnasium. Both Iwaizumi and Oikawa were pissed off at him for some reason or the other. That was before the Spring High Miyagi Prefecture Representative Playoffs began, wherein they were defeated, all of them, by those who sprouted from the concrete.

“Hajime-kun is on the volleyball team at mine and Reon’s university,” Tendou says. “He’s trying to get me to sign up, but it’s a bad idea, right, Wakatoshi-kun? I wouldn’t have time to watch your matches then.”

Iwaizumi says, “What, you need his permission?” 

“Don’t know.” Tendou waggles his eyebrows. “Did you need your friend’s permission to come here? He doesn’t look too happy.” 

Iwaizumi, after frowning at Oikawa, who is talking to one of the waiters with his back to them, says, “No, why would I? Anyway. Give me the coupons.”

Tendou reaches into a pocket and pulls out four coupons. “Twenty percent discount for university students tonight,” he says to Ushijima. “I told Hajime-kun about it, and that’s why they’re here. They won’t be sitting with us, so you can relax, Wakatoshi-kun.” He laughs.

“I am relaxed,” Ushijima says, and nods a hello to Matsukawa and Hanamaki to prove it.

Oikawa comes over to their side of the restaurant only after his friends have found a table and sat down. He is wearing a pair of bright plaid shorts. Ushijima has seen it advertised in the August issues of several fashion magazines, but that style hasn’t quite taken off on the streets of Sendai City yet. 

He focuses on his dinner again. No need for Oikawa to catch him looking and get the wrong idea. It would be the wrong idea.

“Everything okay?” Reon asks, sympathy in his eyes.

“Fine,” Ushijima says.

“He’s not as good as you thought he was, huh?” Tendou says, swirling a piece of meat inside his bowl of dipping sauce. “I heard about your last match. Don’t mind, don’t mind! Either he’ll get better, or you’ll find someone else who’s a better fit.”

Ushijima isn’t entirely sure that Tendou is talking about volleyball anymore, but he is not going to ask for a clarification. He only says, “You should join your university’s team.”

Tendou smiles. When he starts to describe the team, Reon pitches in. Reon has a good chance of becoming one of the regulars next semester. 

It is odd to hear them mention names Ushijima has never heard before. They used to know all of the same people. He feels a bit out of place, and especially so after Tendou and Reon move away from the topic of volleyball and talk about their summer projects instead. It is almost like he is back in Tokyo, trying to understand his new teammates and classmates.

He is looking at the second hand on his watch, tracking its methodical, circular ticking, when Oikawa slides into the seat across from him.

“I would rather be on the other side of the continent,” Oikawa announces, “but I am here on important business. I need the vice captain’s phone number, Ushiwaka-chan. He texted you once, didn’t he?”

“What do you need it for?” Ushijima says. 

“None of your business.”

Part of him can’t believe that Oikawa is here talking to him voluntarily. The other part is thrilled. He has missed that voice, annoying though it can be at times.

“Don’t give him the number, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou says. He waves his chopsticks at Oikawa. “At least not until he asks politely.”

“Excuse me?” Oikawa frowns. “You want me to be polite? How about you teach your friend over there,” he points at Ushijima, “what that word means first. He’s infuriating and condescending and thinks that I don’t have the right amount of pride and constantly gives me unsolicited advice.”

“Yeah, let it all out,” Tendou says. “It helps.”

Oikawa, glowering, continues, “And you know what he thinks about your new buddy, who you call _Hajime-kun_? He thinks Iwa-chan is a second-rate player. He thinks that my team wasn’t good enough. How did he put it? Unfertile soil, right?”

“I wasn’t good enough either, in the end,” Ushijima says.

“Maybe we’re all second-rate players,” Tendou says. He adds, smiling, “So, you don’t want him to give you any advice. Is there something else, more physical, you want him to give you?”

Oikawa clenches his hands. “Ohhh, you really piss me off!”

“Now, now,” Reon says, looking nervous. “Let’s not fight.”

“I’ll text you the number later,” Ushijima says.

“Good,” Oikawa says, still glaring at Tendou, “now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

His leg brushes against Ushijima’s. On accident, no doubt. Oikawa is worked up over Tendou’s comments and can’t sit still. His leg feels silky-smooth, like he has shaved recently.

Oikawa stands up. He turns towards his friends’ table. The three of them are laughing about something.

He glances at Ushijima and says, “I need the vice captain’s number because I’m going to ask for his address and send him a birthday card. He bought me a cake for my birthday, remember?”

“Yes,” Ushijima says. 

The captain had ended practice early that day and the vice captain brought out a large ice cream cake for the team to share. A few of the first years had gifts for Oikawa too, but Ushijima hadn’t known what to give him and had only said “happy birthday.” Oikawa had replied, “It really is. Now, call me Oikawa-san and do everything I say, since I’m older than you.” Then he had gone off with his friends to celebrate somewhere, and Ushijima had returned to his apartment. 

He saw Oikawa later that night, however, when he was going out for a quick run. Oikawa’s apartment is only one floor above his, right off of the stairs. Oikawa was on the veranda, staring off into space.

It was startling to see Oikawa like that, alone and so quiet. He has many friends on campus. Guys from the team, and girls he hangs out with after practice and on weekends. All of them are loud and seem to know just the right thing to say and at the right moment. He was almost intimidating by himself, arms folded over the railing, the unreadable expression on his face warning people to stay away. Or maybe, Ushijima had thought as he crossed the street, warning him to stay away. 

But Oikawa has sought him out now. Ushijima pulls out his phone and finds the address. He goes into his Messages App. His conversation with Oikawa has only two texts so far and is a result of the captain’s order that the first years all have each other’s numbers. 

Oikawa’s phone pings as it receives the newest text. “Thank you,” he says.

Ushijima, remembering Oikawa’s comment about being polite, says, “You’re welcome.”

As soon as Oikawa returns to his table, Tendou raises his eyebrows at Ushijima and asks, “Sooo, what was all that about, hmm, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“He wanted a phone number.”

“Hajime-kun said that you’re the wall Oikawa wants to climb. Or something like that.”

Ushijima isn’t sure how to respond to this, so he doesn’t. Oikawa has talked about crushing him a few times over the years, and just last year, he mentioned how “a pack of crows could kill an enormous white eagle.” Well, the pack of crows had. Life is about winning and losing, and insurmountable walls and walls that are lower than you think.

“Man am I glad that I don’t go to your university,” Tendou says. “I’d be so distracted by you two, my grades would be even lower than they are now. It would be a disaster, right, Reon?”

“Well,” Reon says, sounding a bit apologetic, “maybe not a complete disaster.” 

***

During the Tanabata festival this year, Ushijima wishes for good health as always, and then adds, in smaller handwriting, an extra sentence wishing for better relations with people. He decides not to see the fireworks, because it will be crowded in the park and they are not as exciting as they were when he was a child, but he meets up his friends at a marketplace of their choosing in Sendai City on the last night of the festival.

Tendou insisted that they wear traditional clothes, so Ushijima has put on a simple purple-colored yukata with a red obi. He gets one too many stares as he follows his friends through the marketplace. It is strange that people are looking at him instead of their surroundings. The marketplace is almost unrecognizable tonight, the streets and storefronts lit up with bamboo lights and humongous, beautiful, bright streamers. It is a warm out, and the sky is clear. The thick smell of salty and greasy foods has filled the air. 

He participates in a ball scooping game and wins a gigantic teddy bear, which he gives to Tendou. Then he buys three skewers of yakitori. The meat has been cooked to perfection. He licks the skewers clean.

Tendou and Reon find Semi in the crowd, and they are trying to decide where to go next when Ushijima receives a text from Oikawa. It says simply, “Your obi is loose.”

“I will catch up with you later,” he tells Tendou.

After his friends have left, Ushijima looks around. He spots Oikawa standing near a shooting game. Oikawa is wearing a yukata too, a pretty blue one with a gray obi, and is holding a paper fan in his right hand. 

“How many prizes did you win?” he asks when Ushijima walks over to him.

“One. You?”

“They’ve named me the King of Booth Games.” Oikawa beams. “All of those prizes belong to me.” He points to the row of stuffed rabbits at the back of the booth. “But I’m feeling generous today, so I decided not to take any. Call me Kind Oikawa-san.”

“How long do you plan on being kind?”

“To you? Less than a second.” Oikawa puts one finger under his eye and sticks his tongue out. “My kindness isn’t for rivals I need to crush before I die.”

Ushijima is beginning to regret that he came over here to talk to Oikawa. He forgets sometimes how immature Oikawa can be. They will turn old and gray and have retired from professional volleyball and Oikawa will still be thinking of him as only a rival.

“Oh,” Oikawa says, “I thought you would want to know, since you gave me his phone number. Vice Captain-chan liked the card.”

“He would.”

“He would,” Oikawa agrees. “Think he’ll put us in the next match?”

“Yes.”

“We should practice over the summer then, right? Iwa-chan has promised that he’s going to beat me the next time we meet on the court. We can’t let that happen, can we?”

“You want to practice together?”

Oikawa hums a bit, neither a yes nor a no. He fans himself and glances down in the direction of Ushijima’s waist. “Hey, are you ever going to retie that, or do I have to do it for you?”

The obi is not loose at all, but Ushijima unties it and adjusts the cloth of the yukata. Oikawa looks up at him and smiles. His shoulders have tensed, and when Ushijima starts to tie his obi again, Oikawa swallows.

“That’s better,” Oikawa says, his tone slightly high-pitched. “Can’t have one of my teammates walking around in such an indecent way. Now, I’m going to go see what else the festival has to offer.”

“By yourself?” Ushijima asks.

“No, silly. My friends are here.” Oikawa frowns. “I had to practically rearrange their schedules for them, but that’s besides the point. Why, are you trying to invite yourself along?”

“No, I am here with my friends too. You saw them.”

They start walking in the same direction. Before the crossroad, Oikawa stops in front of a booth that is selling taiyaki and buys two. His gaze is warm and fond, and his smile, although directed at the food and then the lights and decorations around them, is sincere. 

“Here,” Oikawa says, placing a cake on Ushijima’s hand.

Their eyes meet, and Ushijima feels his breath catch in his throat.

***

The next morning, Oikawa texts him the address of a community center. Oikawa is coaching a group of elementary school kids there for the summer and has received permission to use the gym for an extra hour after his class ends. They can meet up around one pm. Ushijima reaches the place ten minutes before the suggested time. 

Oikawa is currently very busy helping his class of twelve students tidy up the gym. Ushijima finds a corner at the back of the room and waits.

When there are five minutes left, Oikawa gathers the kids around him to praise them for a good training session and for putting all of the equipment back properly. 

“When is your next practice?” he asks.

“Friday at ten o’clock, Oikawa-sensei!” the kids shout in unison.

Oikawa dismisses his class with a big smile and more encouraging words. Ushijima is about to walk over to him when he sees a group of parents and guardians peeking in through the doors. He waits. 

Another ten minutes goes by, Oikawa reassuring the adults that their children are well on their way to becoming the next Team Japan. He receives an invitation to a birthday party and responds with a “thank you, thank you,” friendly but also non-committal. Ushijima practices the way Oikawa said that in his own head and resolves to arrive ten minutes early for Friday’s practice too.

As soon as the last parent has left, Oikawa turns to Ushijima and says in a much sharper tone than he has used so far, “What are you waiting around for? I’ve already warmed up. I’m not going to wait for you.”

“I’ve warmed up too.” Ushijima walks over to the net. “I ran five kilometers and did one hundred squats before I came here.”

“Where do you live?” Oikawa asks.

Ushijima’s mind goes blank for a second because he is startled by the question. Oikawa rarely expresses any interest in knowing about his personal life in such a polite, mature way. He usually learns things through making comments such as “I’m surprised that anyone would date a boring guy like you” (answer: “She’s in my Intro to Agricultural Studies course”) and “aren’t you too old to have a pen pal?” (answer: “These packages are from my father. He lives in the States”).

“Not far,” Ushijima says. “A fifteen-minute walk.”

“That was vague.” Oikawa tosses a volleyball towards him.

After Ushijma spikes it over the net, Oikawa continues, “Are you afraid to give me your address? Don’t worry, I’m not going to show up at your house and complain to your mother about how difficult you are.”

“You are welcome to come.” Ushijima spikes a second ball over the net. “I will text you the address.”

A bad idea, he reflects immediately afterwards. He is not sure he wants Oikawa to meet any of his family members. But he wouldn’t mind showing Oikawa the garden.

“We’ll see,” Oikawa says, moving a few steps closer to the net. “Focus on what we’re doing right now, Ushiwaka-chan, not the future. You need to learn how to read my movements and not just expect me to do all the work, you know?”

Oikawa’s tosses are perfect today, as are his serves. Almost pinpoint accuracy, powerful, breathtaking. Ushijima tries to memorize every detail of the way Oikawa moves on the court as they go through their drills. He pays attention to the subtler gestures too: the quick glance towards Ushijima’s left hand before a toss from a position closer to the net; the moment of stillness before he readies himself for a serve; the number of times he spins the ball in his hands; the flick of his wrist; his long legs; the way his jersey has ridden up during the last jump serve, showing a sliver of his back, now slicked with sweat. 

“Good practice,” Oikawa says at the end of the hour, pulling up his jersey to wipe the sweat from his face.

He usually uses a towel to clean himself up, and there are a few clean towels on a chair near the exit. Ushijima isn’t sure what game Oikawa is playing, but he is intrigued. The summer was getting a bit monotonous.

“Are we meeting tomorrow?” Oikawa asks.

Ushijima says, “I thought you only had permission to use the gym on the days you had to teach.”

“No, not in here.” Oikawa picks up a water bottle and tosses it to Ushijima, who, on autopilot, almost spikes it. 

Oikawa almost smiles, but then he puts a hand on one hip, and frowning, says, “We’ll go running tomorrow. Let’s see who’s faster.”

***

Ushijima is faster, by almost three minutes, and Oikawa is pissed off and also in pain, trying to stretch out his quads, gripping his right knee. “You have to pace yourself,” Ushijima says, trying to catch his own breath. 

He went a little overboard too. The sun is beating down on their heads, and there is a stitch in his right side. It was immature of him to run faster than he really should have in this heat, and for almost five kilometers straight, but he couldn’t let Oikawa win. 

“Shut up, Ushiwaka-chan.” Oikawa slowly lifts his right foot onto a park bench and massages the muscles above and below his knee. “You think I can’t win? I’ll show you. We’re having a rematch on Saturday.”

Ushijima is about to warn him about the dangers of overstraining his knee, but he changes his mind when he looks closely at Oikawa’s angry face and remembers the words “unsolicited advice” and “wall Oikawa wants to climb.” He says, “Saturday, then. But two kilometers only. I do not want to overtax my body either.”

Oikawa scowls. “Four,” he says, after a moment.

“Three.”

“Fine.” Oikawa pushes his hair out of his eyes. “But only because you can’t handle it.”

***

They have a constructive practice session on Friday, and Oikawa wins the race on Saturday, beating him by a second. “I’ll win next time,” Ushijima says, resolving to go to the nearest gym and spend another hour on a treadmill as soon as he parts ways with Oikawa today. 

“It’s nice to have goals,” Oikawa says, laughing, his eyes radiant. “How about some ice cream first?” He points to the convenience store at the end of the lane. “Loser treats the winner.” He makes a victory sign with his fingers.

Ushijima follows Oikawa into the store. It is blissfully cool inside but surprisingly crowded. Teenagers are hanging around in the aisles, and a long line of harried looking adults wait to pay for their items.

“My sister said that they have all sorts of discounts over the summer,” Oikawa explains as he selects a packet of ice cream puffs from the freezer. “They could have one for university students today.”

After picking up a chocolate bar, Ushijima joins Oikawa in the queue. The cashier announces that the customers can eat their food items while they wait if they want and show her the wrappers when it is their turn to pay. 

The bar tastes good, cold enough, and the chocolate isn’t too sweet. A bit of cream runs down into the space between his pointer finger and thumb. He licks it off.

“Why,” Oikawa says, and when Ushijima glances at him, he quickly turns away, making a big show of reaching into his pocket for a tissue.

Ushijima uses the tissue to wipe his hand. The line inches toward the front. He spots two couples trying out each other’s ice cream, and Oikawa, looking at them as well, wrinkles his nose.

When it’s their turn to pay, the cashier says, “We have a couples discount today.” She points to a sign on the wall behind her.

Ushijima almost drops his wallet onto the floor. 

Oikawa says, his tone climbing up a few octaves, “Oh, no, no, no, you’re mistaken, Miss, we’re not a couple! We’ll take the student discount, thank you.”

“That’s one’s tomorrow, sorry,” she says. And then, lowering her voice, “Sorry for assuming! I thought… But it’s okay, you can take the couples discount anyway. You can be a friends-couple!”

Oikawa’s cheeks are faintly red. He tries to smile as he says, “Aw, that’s nice of you. But we’re more like a rivals-couple. Right, Ushiwaka-chan?”

Ushijima pays the discounted price. He would much rather have paid the full amount. Or not come here at all. But then again, he kind of liked the way Oikawa said “rivals-couple.”

Back outside, Oikawa says, “You can have the day off tomorrow, Ushiwaka-chan. Since it’s your birthday and you’ll be busy. Hey, maybe I should’ve paid for the ice cream.”

“No problem,” Ushijima says. 

“Happy birthday and all that,” Oikawa says.

***

Ushijima has disliked his birthday ever since his father moved overseas. He wishes his mother and grandparents would ignore it, like they ignore many other things. He tells his mother on the morning of his birthday, as he has for several summers now, “There is no need for a special dinner.” 

“Why, do you have plans with your friends,” his mother replies. She has given him ¥50,000 at breakfast and is currently making a grocery list for dinner. 

Ushijima thinks of Oikawa for a moment. He would much rather be outside, running together. Or eating ice cream together.

“No,” Ushijima says to his mother. “I don’t have plans. But don’t trouble yourself.”

She taps against her pen against the notepad, her sharp eyes studying his face. There are a few more wrinkles around her mouth than there were before he started university. She will cover them up carefully before heading out to do the shopping.

She says, “Let me decide what is trouble and what isn’t, Wakatoshi. By the way, your father sent you a gift. It is on the coffee table in the living room.”

As he is heading into the living room, he hears her say, “Make sure you thank him for sending it on time this year.”

His father has sent a mock Team Japan volleyball jersey with a number 1 on the front and “Ushijima Wakatoshi” printed on the back. Ushijima puts it on. It is one size too small. He takes it off and calls his father.

***

He is tending to the tomatoes in his garden on Tuesday morning when his mother appears on the veranda. “Wakatoshi,” she says, frowning, “you have a visitor. Please try to let me know in advance next time.”

And then Oikawa appears behind her, smiling and saying, “Ah, it’s not really his fault, Ushijima-san. I thought I would surprise him! Guess what, Wakatoshi-kun, we’re going to visit Matsushima Bay.”

Ushijima has many questions, but his mother is watching him closely, and he is startled by the fact that Oikawa used his first name. Oikawa prefers to use annoying nicknames. Ushijima likes how his name sounded in Oikawa’s mouth.

He returns his watering can and spade to the shed. “I’ll be off,” he says to his mother.

Oikawa says, “It was very nice to meet you, Ushijima-san. And to see your garden. It’s lovely.”

After a long pause, in which she studies them both, her face impassive, she says, “Oh, that is all Wakatoshi’s doing. He likes plants. Has a bit of a green thumb.”

“That he does.” Oikawa smiles again. “He thinks that I am a seedling with great potential and has been trying to harvest my talents for years.”

“I will go prepare for the trip,” Ushijima says. 

“Would you like to wait inside?” his mother asks Oikawa.

Oikawa declines, saying that he will walk around the garden instead, and after Ushijima is ready, they leave for the train station.

On the way, Ushijima waits for a comment about the house, or a complaint about the dismissive attitude of his grandparents, who barely responded when Oikawa greeted them, but Oikawa only says, “Your koi pond is pretty.”

After they have boarded the train to Matsushima Bay, and after the usual round of responding to questions with non-answers, Oikawa finally explains why they are on this surprise trip. He says that he had heard from a “friend of a friend” that Ushijima had stayed at home all day on his birthday and done nothing. “We could’ve gone running after all,” Oikawa says. “Anyway, we’ll make up for it today. It’s not going to be a fun trip full of sightseeing and feasting on oysters. We’re only going to one of the tiny islands there, one that has the least amount of tourists, and we’re going swimming. Another day of fitness, to improve ourselves, so that we can be better volleyball players, nothing more.”

“Is Tendou the friend of a friend?”

“Who cares? Try to relax. Your mean face is going to frighten everyone on the train.” Oikawa pulls out his cellphone.

Ushijima feels a bit better when Oikawa moves his phone into the space between them to show him a collection of family photos. A pretty sister and a serious-looking nephew, elderly parents, a beaming Oikawa Tooru. Oikawa has a beautiful face, and his hair always looks perfect, shiny and thick and often artfully tousled, like a model’s from the front page of _Men’s NON-NO_.

Oikawa asks, as he swipes through the photos, “Hey, do you think my face looks off center?”

“No.”

“They are in some of them, but not all, right? Do you think I have too many photos of myself?”

They are currently on photo number 51 of 1001. Oikawa was in at least forty of the previous ones. “No,” Ushijima says.

Oikawa smiles then and says, “You know, you might make someone very happy one day.”

***

Matsushima Bay is as beautiful as it appears on TV. Ushijima stops on one of the promenades to look at the islands scattered throughout the water. Each island is dotted with pine trees. Distant, self-contained, yet part of a whole. The water is almost placid, the blue-green waves lapping gently against their shores.

There are hundreds of tourists milling around today, consulting visitor guides, queuing up to ride the ferries, trying to take photos. He lets Oikawa take the lead. They start to cross one of the red bridges to a nearby island.

Halfway over the bridge, Oikawa slows down and moves closer to Ushijima. He says, “Bridges always feel more fragile than they look, but don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

When they reach the island, he finds a steep path leading into the water. They put their bags down against a tree and strip down to their swimming trunks. Ushijima tries not to stare at how tight Oikawa’s trunks are, at how good his ass looks in it. “Are we allowed to swim here?” he asks.

“Let’s not wait and find out,” Oikawa says, wading out into the water.

Ushijima hesitates for a second before plunging in after Oikawa. 

The water isn’t too cold, and it is clean. As he swims out farther, he feels lighter, like a weight he didn’t know was on his shoulders has slid off, has sunk into the depths below. He catches up to Oikawa, and when Oikawa flicks water into his face, laughing, he considers bridging the gap between them and kissing him.

“What I did tell you on the way here, Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa says. He puts his mouth close to Ushijima’s ear. “We’re not here to have fun.”

So Ushijima waits. They swim farther and farther out into the bay, and only turn back when they spot a ferry making its way towards the island. Oikawa reaches the shore first, water running down his chest and legs, his hair plastered to his face, his trunks clinging to his skin.

The ground is uneven under their feet, and Ushijima almost trips over a tree root as he tries to get his clean clothes out of his bag. He tries to not watch as Oikawa dries himself off with a towel. Oikawa puts on a pair of sunglasses when Ushijima starts to change.

“We might have some time for oysters,” Oikawa says.

“Alright,” Ushijima says.

He kisses Oikawa at the end of the day, after they’ve eaten the oysters and walked back to the train station and returned to Sendai City, when it’s dark enough that the few pedestrians behind them cannot easily see what he is doing and he can’t see Oikawa’s expression clearly either. Just a quick press of his lips to Oikawa’s mouth, almost a suggestion of a kiss. Oikawa was talking about something, a smile in his voice, his face only inches away, and Ushijima had put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder and asked “may I,” and Oikawa had met him halfway.

But Oikawa is silent now, after the kiss, hesitating, his hands clenching into fists.  
He has stopped walking. It is so quiet, Ushijima can hear the cicadas singing in the distance. 

Finally Oikawa says, “Your mouth smells horrible. Couldn’t you have done this before we ate the oysters?” 

Then, “This ends when our vacation ends, alright?”

Ushijima was expecting less. “That’s fine with me,” he says.

***

August stretches on, the slow, sweltering days giving way to shorter days and cooler nights. Oikawa’s class ends, but he and Ushijima have permission to continue using the gym. They run on sunny days, side by side until the last stretch of their route, a quiet road cutting through flourishing rice paddies, when it becomes a race to the finish line. Their muscles become stronger. Their coordination improves. Their kissing sessions last longer. Ushijima wants the summer to last forever.

***

On the first Monday of September, Oikawa invites him over to his house. It starts to rain on the way over. Ushijima hasn’t brought an umbrella with him, and his clothes are drenched by the time he walks into Oikawa’s house.

“Well,” Oikawa says, looking him up and down. He is wearing glasses today, the frames as brown as his eyes. “That’s convenient. Let’s get right to it.”

“Get right to what?” Ushijima asks, pushing his wet hair back. 

“Are you trying to be coy, or do you really not know?” 

There is no reason to be nervous, Ushijima reminds himself, when Oikawa opens the door to his bedroom and motions him inside. Tendou, who has done this before, with Semi probably, has said, “It’s just sex. You might feel awkward, but remember, the other guy’s gonna have his pants down too.”

But Oikawa might want a stellar performance, something more than kissing and awkward grinding, so Ushijima has tried to prepare accordingly. He watched a few foreign independent films last week, the ones where the characters are comfortable with nudity and masturbate freely and have lots of detailed sex on wide mattresses and break up right before the closing credits appear on the screen. 

“You’re frowning,” Oikawa says, and he strokes a finger down the bridge of Ushijima’s nose.

Ushijima puts his hands on either side of Oikawa’s face and kisses him. Oikawa makes a small noise of approval and opens his mouth, touches his tongue to Ushijima’s. He slides his hands underneath Ushijima’s shirt and then over Ushijima’s abs and chest, taking his time. Ushijima kisses Oikawa behind his ear, inhales the scent of his hair, something minty and calming this afternoon.

Oikawa takes off his shirt and pulls his shorts down. He is wearing a pair of black briefs. Ushijima can feel his mouth going dry. His fingers tremble a bit as he works his own clothes off. 

“That’s more like it,” Oikawa says. 

He looks like he is trying to think of something unnecessary to say to lighten the mood, but after another awkward few seconds, he closes his mouth and pulls Ushijima towards the futon in the middle of the floor.

When Ushijima moves to gently guide Oikawa onto the futon, Oikawa pushes Ushijima down instead and climbs over him. “Let me,” Oikawa says, and puts a hand right over Ushijima’s crotch.

Ushijima lets him take over. He lies back and tries to breathe as Oikawa jerks him off, sloppier than Ushijima expected but still so satisfying. Afterwards, he lifts his head to kiss Oikawa. The pretty mouth, his jawline, the dip between his collarbones where sweat is pooling.

“Your turn,” Oikawa says. He takes his glasses off.

“Alright.” Ushijima tries to focus. “How do you want it?”

“Use your hand.” Oikawa takes his left hand and guides it to the elastic band of his briefs. “Not too rough, but not slow and soft either, Ushiwaka-chan.”

Halfway through, when Oikawa’s breathing changes and his gaze becomes so fierce Ushijima can feel himself getting half hard again, Ushijima makes the mistake of saying,  
“Oikawa, I like you. I want-”

Oikawa freezes in place, his eyes wide and his mouth a tense line. 

It was the wrong thing to say.

“Can’t help you there,” Oikawa says finally. He moves Ushijima’s hand away and finishes by himself. He puts his clothes back on.

Then he goes over to his closet and says, “You can borrow my clothes since yours are wet. We’ll go running after the rain clears up.”

Ushijima sits up and moves off the futon. He puts on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The clothes don’t fit, but they are clean and smell of laundry detergent. 

It is too warm inside the room. He is going to sweat through them. They will have to be washed before he can return them to Oikawa. This was not how the day was supposed to go.

“You want anything to eat or drink?” Oikawa asks, sounding almost bored. He opens a window and then sits down at his desk, a low table on which he has placed a stack of his psychology textbooks and a desktop computer. _Civilization and Its Discontents_ is lying open next to an empty mug.

“No.”

“Alright.” 

Oikawa clicks on a YouTube video of a FIVB World League match. Ushijima tries to watch it too, the camaraderie of the teammates, their easy affection. They hug each other after a well-earned point. 

That could be them one day. That has to be.

Oikawa gets up halfway through the match and leaves the room. He returns five minutes later with a plate full of sliced watermelon. “Here,” he says, setting the plate down on the floor between them.

Ushijima waits for Oikawa to pick up a slice before taking one himself. The flesh is very red and sweet. Juice runs down Oikawa’s hand as he bites down on his slice.

“It’s still summer, Oikawa,” Ushijima says. Then he kisses the inside of Oikawa’s wrist, runs his tongue up Oikawa’s thumb.

Oikawa touches Ushijima’s head with his clean hand. The Japanese team is cheering on the screen in front of them. He cards his fingers through Ushijima’s hair. 

He says, “That’s true.”

***

There isn’t enough time in the day for everything Ushijima wants to do with Oikawa. He is surprised one morning when he glances at his wall calendar and sees how close it is to the beginning of the next semester, and he is surprised further when catches his reflection in the mirror, at the expression on his face, and then by his hair, almost fluffy because Oikawa massaged a fancy conditioner into it yesterday.

And then it is the third week of September and time to return to Tokyo. 

Oikawa barely looks at Ushijima at the bus station. “It was sooo nice to spend time with you guys again,” he is telling his nephew and Iwaizumi, who have come to see him off. “Try not to miss me too much, alright?”

“Who’s going to miss you,” Iwaizumi replies, tossing one of Oikawa’s bags into the luggage area under the bus. “We’ll be too busy enjoying the peace and quiet.” 

“How mean, Iwa-chan! I’m not going to miss you either. It’ll be nice to be away from your nagging, Mom.”

“Can I come stay with you one day?” the nephew says, loudly, over Iwaizumi’s pseudo-angry retort. 

“Of course you may, Takeru-chan.” Oikawa spreads his arms. “Now come give your uncle a hug.”

“But,” Takeru protests, “that’s embarrassing, Tooru!”

He hugs his uncle, however, tightly around the waist. Oikawa’s students had done that too on their last day of class. Oikawa had become a bit misty-eyed, but he was back to his old self when Ushijima said, “You would make a good teacher.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Oikawa had said. “You think I can’t become a professional volleyball player? Just watch me.”

It’s for the best that their summer romance has ended, Ushijima reflects. He doesn’t have time for a relationship anyway. They have a better partnership on the court than they did before, and that is what is important in the long run. They didn’t share a long goodbye kiss or anything unnecessary like that after they had sex yesterday either. Instead, they had discussed their travel options. They are going to take the same bus because why not. 

There is another mature thing he needs to do too, Ushijima remembers. He walks over to Iwaizumi, who immediately looks wary. Oikawa and Takeru are staring too, one with a frown, and the other curious.

Ushijima greets them with a hello before he says to Iwaizumi, “I look forward to playing against you on the court again, Iwaizumi.”

After the initial surprised expression fades, Iwaizumi says, “Great. See you there, Ushiwaka.”

It was the right thing to do. Ushijima nods, and tries not to look at Oikawa, who is watching him carefully. It is harder to ignore him, however, when Takeru asks for Ushijima’s autograph. 

“Takeru,” Oikawa protests, as Ushijima digs out a marker from his bag and tries to sign the brim of Takeru’s baseball cap, “how can you betray me this way?! Ushiwaka-chan isn’t famous enough to have an _autograph_. It’s just a weird signature.”

Takeru’s eyes are shining as he carefully puts his baseball hat back on his head. “Thanks, Ushijima-san!” he says. “I’m gonna be a wing spiker when I grow up.”

“I know you will be great at whatever you decide to do,” Ushijima says. “Believe that you can, and practice hard, and you will go far in life.”

“Iwa-chan, please take Takeru home,” Oikawa says, passing a hand over his forehead dramatically. “He told me he was going to be a setter just the other day. The heat must be getting to him.”

Oikawa does not board the bus until his friend and nephew have gone. He is somber after that, as he sits down next to Ushijima, his elbows tucked into his sides. He takes his cellphone out of his pocket and puts a pair of headphones over his ears. The cover of his phone is the same turquoise color of the Aoba Johsai jersey.

When the bus pulls out of the station and heads towards the freeway, Ushijima tries to focus on the road ahead. He had a good summer, the best he has ever had. Now it is time to think about the future again.

***

The day before class starts again, Oikawa goes to Zushi Beach with a group of friends, including Sugawara. Ushijima was invited, but he declined. Oikawa says later, when they pass each other in front of their apartment building, “Ushiwaka-chan, why do you have to complicate things?”

“What am I complicating?” Ushijima asks.

“You’re avoiding me, which is fine with me by the way, but you’re being very Mr. Obvious about it. Mr. Refreshing is getting suspicious. He thinks we dated over the summer.”

“That’s not my problem, and I am not avoiding you, I am busy.”

Oikawa’s voice is strained as he says, “It’s not like I’m not busy either. And I’m glad you didn’t come to the beach with us. You would have sucked at beach volleyball. The spikers on my team were perfect, and they didn’t need to spend a whole summer with me to learn how to be in synch with me either.”

“So, everything seems to have worked out.”

“You really piss me off!” Oikawa says, as he stomps off to the stairwell. “I think I hate you.”

Ushijima feels the same way as he returns to his own apartment. Except for the hating part. He is beginning to realize that he is in love with Oikawa, the kind of burning, intense, almost overpowering love found in movies and poems, a love he was certain would never happen to him.

But it is his fault, and he will get over it. 

***

It is almost the end of September, and the humidity in Tokyo is becoming bearable. The team plays their first match of the semester, and Ushijima and Oikawa are subbed in during the last set. Their coordination is perfect. The captain promises to put them in more matches.

Ushijima has returned to his old routines. He lets himself think about the summer only sometimes, in the first five minutes of his morning run, during a video call with Tendou, when he is watering the plants in his apartment. He tries not to during practice, but it is difficult when he has to pair up with Oikawa for stretching exercises and drills.

He is not happy, therefore, when Oikawa texts him at noon on the last day of September, when he is busy working on a paper, telling him to come up to the second floor.

It would be more troublesome to decline. Oikawa will think that he is “avoiding” him again. So Ushijima leaves his room and climbs up the steps to the second floor. He is relieved to see that Oikawa is standing on the veranda and not inside his apartment.

“What do you want,” Ushijima says.

Oikawa says, “Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking, Ushiwaka-chan. How are you?” He deepens his voice. “Fine.” His tone changes again, and goes back and forth as he continues, “Nice weather, isn’t it? Yes, it is.”

“Oikawa,” Ushijima says, “I have a five page paper due on Monday.”

“What’s it about?”

“It wouldn’t interest you.”

“You know, you might be right about that.”

Oikawa is smiling, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. His phone is in his hands, and as Ushijima waits, his fingers tense around it. Something is bothering him, and Ushijima wishes that it didn’t involve him.

Finally, Oikawa says, “Look, Ushijima, I want you to know that I always put volleyball first, before anything else. My last girlfriend broke up with me because of that.”

“It’s alright, Oikawa,” Ushijima says. “We are here to improve ourselves and be allowed onto a grander stage, and that is what we will do. I apologize for making things awkward for you.”

Oikawa sighs. “And you’re not even being passive-aggressive, are you? You really mean that.”

“I’m going back to work on my paper now.” Ushijima tries not to look at the small furrow between Oikawa’s eyebrows, tries not think about how he wants to smoothen it away, see Oikawa smile at him again. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No,” Oikawa says.

Ushijima is turning to go when Oikawa asks, “Hey, do you really still like me? You know, _like_ like me. Like you felt in the summer.”

“Why?” Ushijima asks.

“I know we agreed not to continue our … whatever that was in the summer. But.” Oikawa touches the screen of his phone. “There’s a discount for couples at an onsen nearby until midnight. We never got around to going to one when we were in Miyagi.”

Ushijima is convinced, for many minutes, that he is dreaming. He must have fallen asleep at his desk while he was reading about free range farming for his paper. Oikawa features in his dreams occasionally, with less clothes on, and he says things like this, affectionate with an edge, loving at the heart of it.

Oikawa holds his phone out. The website of the onsen is displayed on the screen, advertising new private baths for couples and a discount just as he said. He stays that way, his arm outstretched in the space between them, until Ushijima says, “Alright.” 

Oikawa exhales, quietly, like he is relieved, before saying, “Great, fantastic.” Then he opens the door to his apartment and says, “Would you like to wait inside while I get my things?”

Ushijima follows him inside, his heart beating faster than it should be. He looks around while Oikawa puts a few things into a backpack. The apartment has exactly the same layout as his and is almost as sparse. There is a row of washed coffee cups on the desk, along with an alien plushie and a model rocket. A volleyball is tucked into the blankets by the foot by the bed. Ushijima picks it up. 

Oikawa zips up his bag and asks, “Ready, Wakatoshi?”

Ushijima puts the ball down. He touches the back of Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa leans in and kisses him, and Ushijima breathes in the scent of his hair, holds onto him for a moment. Everything he wanted, Ushijima thinks, and more.

**Author's Note:**

> I did a poll on my twitter recently about what type of ushioi story I should write next, and the result was a post-canon summer love fic. Apologies to you all, this didn't turn out as summery as I wanted it to be. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
